A Sweethaven Summer

by Courtney Walsh

  “It’s so nice hearing you talk about her.” Campbell set her glass on the table. “It’s almost like she’s still here.”

  “Those scrapbook parties were something else,” Adele said. “I knew I needed to stock the fridge and prepare for a sleepless weekend.”

  “Admit it, Mama, you loved having us here.” Lila winked at Adele.

  “That I did, sweetheart. I had to or I’d lose my ‘coolest mom’ title.”

  “There’s really nothing in the book about my father?”

  Jane and Lila exchanged a glance.

  “Hon, the scrapbook isn’t going to help you find your father,” Lila said. “Your mom didn’t put that in the book. We’re pretty sure about that.”

  Campbell felt Luke glance at her, but she kept her eyes on the women across the table.

  Suddenly she wished she hadn’t said anything. They could know she wondered about her father’s identity, but that was all. They didn’t need to know the hours she’d spent daydreaming about meeting him.

  “You must have a list of people you all hung around with. Maybe it’s someone you all knew but didn’t realize she loved?”

  Lila laughed. “I hate to burst your romance bubble, but your mom wasn’t in love with the guy—whoever he was.”

  Campbell frowned. “How do you know? I mean, if you don’t even know who he is?”

  She shrugged. “If it was love, she would’ve told us.”

  Jane swallowed and stared at her plate.

  Campbell studied them both.

  “Maybe Campbell’s right, girls,” Adele said. “Maybe you’ve missed something. Hon, we were talking earlier about an art class your mama took at the community college. Could’ve been someone from there? We’ll put the pages together and see what we find.”

  Campbell’s confidence had gone. Not only had her mother left her father’s identity out of the book, but she’d been embarrassed about it. Not even in love with the guy.

  A dead end.

  Tilly’s words rushed back. Get home. Where you belong.

  Suddenly she didn’t know if she wanted answers to her questions. Suddenly ignorance felt safer.

  THIRTEEN

  Campbell

  After dinner, in the darkness of the cool May evening, Campbell sat on an outdoor loveseat, Mugsy quietly snoring at her feet. Jane and Lila still sat at the table, talking quietly about the old days, while Luke helped Adele clear the table. When he emerged from the house empty-handed, he spotted Campbell and walked toward her.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.

  “What?” She glanced up at him.

  “Wanna go for a walk?” His lopsided grin lured her in, and against her better judgment she stood.

  “Should we bring Mugsy?” Campbell glanced at the mutt lazing at her feet.

  “Nah, this dog is older than the hills.” He led her out of the back yard and down the driveway.

  Campbell laughed, falling into step beside him. “Your mom said that too. I like her. I think she’s sweet.”

  “She is. Balances out Mom’s saltiness.” He smirked.

  “Your mom is plenty sweet.” Campbell tossed a glance back toward the house. “I wish I could stay.”

  “You’re leaving then?”

  She looked away. “Not much point hanging around. You heard them—the scrapbook doesn’t have the answers I’m looking for.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you should at least try. Stay a few days. Blossom Fest—”

  “I know.” She smiled. “I hear it’s a lot of fun.”

  “It’s okay. You know, if you like tours of the orchard in bloom, a lit Ferris wheel on the beach at night, the parade and old movies in the park.” He stared straight ahead. “Aren’t you a photographer? Think of the pictures you could get.”

  “Had to throw that in there, didn’t you?” Campbell glanced at him, falling into step at his side. “You sound like a tourist brochure.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever it takes to get you to stay. Besides, you still haven’t seen all that Sweethaven has to offer. I could take you on a tour. You can bring your camera.”

  She hated to admit it sounded like the perfect way to spend a day. No deadlines. Nowhere to be. What kind of creativity would emerge without the pressure of an assignment?

  But what about Mom’s will? Tilly said they needed her tomorrow. And in a few days she had to be back for work. It would be best to take care of Mom’s will, the house—everything—before then.

  “Could you show me something now?” She tossed a look in his direction.

  “Name it.”

  “I want to see where my mom grew up. I’m curious about the people who bought the cottage after my grandparents died.” She glanced back the way they’d just come. Perhaps they’d passed the old house and she didn’t realize it.

  Luke cleared his throat. “Maybe we should do that when it’s light out. You won’t be able to see much now.”

  “No, this way I can sneak on by and no one will notice I’m there.” She bumped into his shoulder. “Please?”

  He slowed his pace and studied her eyes. “You sure you want to see it?”

  She frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  They stood at the corner of Elm and Juniper Drive. He glanced up at the street sign. “It’s down this street.” Luke turned the corner.

  Even in the dim light of the streetlamp, Campbell saw his hesitation.

  “What’s wrong? Is it haunted or something?” She jogged to catch up to him.

  “No, of course not. It’s fine. I’ll show you quick and then we’ll head back.”

  Campbell walked up the slight hill of Juniper Drive until they reached the next block. Luke stopped before they crossed and pointed at a bungalow across the street directly in front of them. “It’s that one.”

  She recognized it from the picture. Her mom had grown up there. So much of her life had taken place only feet from where she now stood, and Campbell didn’t know any of those stories. She could almost see the four girls sitting on the deep porch well into the warm summer nights.

  “Do you know who lives there now?” she asked. She wondered if Mom had carved her name into a wooden post in the basement or if her handprints were pressed in cement on the back patio.

  Luke took a deep breath, but before he could respond the porch light came on.

  Campbell gasped. “Oh my gosh. They’re home.”

  “Maybe we should go,” Luke said.

  Campbell started across the street. What could the new owners tell her about the cottage’s previous owners? Had anything been left behind, and if so, what had they done with those things? There were secrets in that house, and Campbell had to at least try to uncover them.

  From behind, Luke called to her, but she didn’t hear what he said. Instead, she focused on the door opening in front of her. Excitement bubbled in her chest as she anticipated the potential answers.

  But as she neared the walkway leading to the front door, her breath caught in her throat as a figure appeared in the faint light on the porch. A figure she recognized.

  The name CARTER jumped out at her from the mailbox, and Campbell began to piece it together.

  It was the man from her mom’s funeral.

  He met her gaze and stood, unmoving, at the top of the stairs. They stared at each other.

  “Campbell.” Luke’s voice broke through her cloud of confusion as she tried to process what she was seeing.

  “Is that…?” The words halted in midair. She couldn’t say it out loud. Because if what she suspected was true, then her mother had done more than hide her past. She’d lied about it.

  FOURTEEN

  Campbell

  Campbell’s heart pounded in her chest, and she struggled for a deep breath. Luke grabbed her hand.

  “Evening, Reverend Carter,” he said.

  The old man looked at them, his brow furrowed, his mouth agape.

  This can’t be happening. This was her grandfather.
r />   “Do you want to say anything?” Luke whispered, his face turned away from the man.

  Did she want to say anything? Her head spun. She didn’t know. What would she say? Would she start with “Why didn’t you find me?” or maybe “Didn’t you ever wonder what happened to your daughter?”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks as she shook her head, unable to make sense of her thoughts. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered.

  The old man took a step toward her, and in an instant she knew she did not want to talk to him. And she didn’t want him to talk to her. Who did he think he was showing up at Mom’s funeral? Why hadn’t he found them? Why hadn’t he come to them? What else hadn’t her mother told her?

  As he took another step, Campbell backed into Luke, who steadied her, his warm eyes watching. “You should’ve told me,” she said.

  His eyes widened, but she didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, she pushed past him and ran back down the hill.

  The sound of her feet pounding on the pavement invaded her own mind. Her heart raced and she struggled for air, certain she’d never breathe normally again. She wished she could run forever—away from this place that held too many secrets and too much hurt.

  * * * * *

  Campbell returned to Adele’s house, intending to gather her things and get back to the city where she belonged. Instead, she was met in the entryway by Adele, Lila, and Jane.

  “I’m just here for my things. I’ve got to get back to the city. There’s a will and…” Her voice faded as if the trail to her sanity had just gone cold.

  “Darlin’, what’s wrong? You’re white as a sheet.” Adele stepped closer.

  “Nothing. I just need to get home. They need me back home.” Campbell looked away.

  “You found everything you were looking for then?” Adele stood in front of the stairs, blocking Campbell’s way.

  “Well, no.”

  “Mmm-hmmm. Didn’t think so. You sure you want to go leavin’ already?” Behind Adele, Jane and Lila watched, their faces filled with pity and pleading.

  “I’m not sure I want answers anymore.” Campbell looked away.

  Adele’s eyes narrowed as if she were trying to figure out where her change of heart had come from. “You might find out a few things you hadn’t bargained for, darlin’. You need to make up your mind now if you can handle that.” She watched for Campbell’s reaction, but Campbell schooled her expression to remain blank.

  “Finding out my mother’s father lives around the corner—I hadn’t bargained for that.” Her bottom lip quivered, and she willed herself not to cry. Adele put an arm around her and led her into the living room.

  “You didn’t know about him?” Lila asked.

  Campbell shook her head. “Mom said her parents died. In the crash right after I was born.”

  “Adele, did you know that?” Jane sat down on the sofa.

  Adele sighed. “I did. Honey, your grandpa is a friend of mine. I didn’t want to say anything because, well, y’all just got here and I thought we’d talk about it all tonight.”

  At that moment, Luke burst through the door, wild-eyed. His eyes met Campbell’s, and he stared at her for a long moment—almost as if he were asking for forgiveness.

  And she knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. Not really.

  “So you knew too,” Campbell said to Luke. “That my grandfather lived in town.”

  His face fell, and he avoided her eyes. “I’m sorry, Cam. I tried to talk you out of it. I thought we’d hurry by. I didn’t know he’d be coming out of the house.” He met her eyes. “I’m really sorry.”

  She held his gaze for a long moment and finally looked away. It didn’t make sense to blame him. It wasn’t his fault her mom had lied to her. But then, blaming the dead wouldn’t get her anywhere either.

  She glanced at the clock. Nine thirty. She could still make it back to Chicago tonight if she left now. She could go to the reading and then spend the weekend getting the house ready to sell. The whole idea held no appeal for her, but she’d already found more information in Sweethaven than she’d bargained for. Campbell hated knowing that her mom had lied to her. It made her wonder if they’d really been as close as she thought they were—and that threatened to change her memories. Thinking about it scared her. Maybe Tilly was right. Maybe coming here in this ridiculous hunt for a father was a huge mistake.

  She had to face the reality that these women didn’t know who her father was—and that alone was reason to go.

  Her mind spun with images of the lanky man from the funeral. The pain she saw in his eyes that day was still there—she saw it when he looked at her that night.

  And suddenly Campbell didn’t feel like fighting for the truth anymore.

  FIFTEEN

  Campbell

  Campbell gathered from the dresser the few toiletries she’d unpacked and stuffed them in her bag. The quiet of the guest room didn’t offer any comfort. If anything, it wrapped itself around her like a straitjacket, taunted, tormented. Just like that, she was seven years old again, watching Alison Temberly walk past her house to the park, hand-in-hand with her tall, handsome father. In a second, the rejection had weaseled its way back in without her permission.

  She’d come for answers and had gotten nothing but more questions. Her grandparents were alive and yet her mother never allowed her to meet them? Why? Was she really that selfish? Were they really that vicious? She was tired of thinking her mother must’ve had her reasons. Of course she did, but that didn’t make them good ones.

  That didn’t keep her from hurting.

  Campbell startled at a gentle knock on the door. She blotted under her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and busied herself with packing. Or at least pretending to pack.

  “Come in,” she said.

  Jane appeared on the other side of the door. “I came to check on you.”

  Campbell looked away.

  “May I sit?” Jane motioned to the armchair in the corner.

  Campbell nodded.

  “Your mom and I were really close.” Jane studied her feet. “I wish I could’ve said that more recently, but unfortunately, we fell out of touch.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

  Jane’s smile was almost patronizing, as if to tell her she didn’t really understand. “I think Lila and Meghan assumed I knew she’d gotten pregnant, you know, before she told us. Before she sent that scrapbook page. But I didn’t. I was so hurt that she didn’t tell me, I think I missed her cry for help.”

  Campbell frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “She came to me. When you were a baby. It was a Friday night and I had plans to go to the football game at my school. I remember because I was supposed to meet Graham there. Our first date.” She smiled. “I was so excited.” Jane closed her eyes, as if going to a different place.

  Jane had been so nervous to see Graham Atkins. She’d spent over an hour in front of the mirror that night, then emerged from the house and prayed her old white Citation would start. She could not miss that game.

  A voice cut her trek to the car short.

  “Janie?”

  The stark light of the street lamp out front cast a dark shadow on a girl standing next to an old green car. Jane squinted, trying—but failing—to place the vehicle.

  “It’s Suzanne.”

  “Suzanne?” Jane headed toward her and pulled her into a tight hug. “Where’ve you been? I tried calling.”

  Suzanne clung to her for a long moment until finally Jane pulled back and looked at her. “Are you okay?”

  Suzanne nodded and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I had a baby.” She smiled and cried at the same time.

  “I know. Was it a girl or a boy?”

  “A girl.” Suzanne looked at the car. “Her name’s Campbell.”

  “Aw, Suzanne, that’s so pretty.” Jane looked in the back window and spotted the sleeping baby that barely filled the car seat. Such a sweet baby with that one little tuft
of hair on her otherwise bald head. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Her middle name is Jane.” Suzanne looked at her.

  “It is?” Jane swelled with pride. Suzanne had named the baby after her?

  “She’s four and a half months already.” Suzanne smiled at her daughter.

  “How are you, Suzie?” Jane read the worn-out expression on her friend’s face.

  “I’m okay. I was thinking about you when I was driving so I thought I’d stop. I had your address in my book.

  “I’m heading to a football game. Do you want to come?”

  Suzanne looked away. “I doubt they’d appreciate a baby at a football game.” She laughed. “Besides, it might be a little loud for her.”

  An awkward silence fell between them. Jane searched for words. She’d never struggled to find them with Suzanne before.

  “How long can you stay?” Jane finally asked.

  “Not long. I just wanted to say hi and introduce you to my baby.”

  “She’s really beautiful, Suzanne. Do you want to come in? I can skip the game.” Jane tried to sound sincere, but Graham’s handsome smile skittered through her mind. The thought of missing their date turned her stomach, but he would understand, right?

  Would Suzanne pick up on her eagerness to leave?

  “No, no. I can’t stay.” Suzanne ran her hand through her long brown hair and for a moment looked a little lost.

  “Are you sure?” She felt relief, then guilt when Suzanne turned her down. “I really can skip it. It’s just—there’s this boy.” Jane smiled.

  “I knew you’d probably have plans. You’ll have to call and tell me all about him. I’m just glad I caught you.”

  “Suzanne, wait.” Jane ran over to her car and fished through the mess in the backseat. She located the scrapbook, then walked back toward her friend.

  “You should have this,” Jane said.

  Suzanne took the book from her, wrapped her thin fingers around the edges. “Oh, Jane, I couldn’t. I don’t think I’ll be going back to Sweethaven. But the scrapbook should still go.”